


roll for secrets

by Readythedrums



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry is trans and there's nothing you can do about it, M/M, Trans Male Character, Utter Drarry fluff, Very Mild Transphobia, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readythedrums/pseuds/Readythedrums
Summary: Harry Potter, six months into his relationship with Draco Malfoy, thinks bringing him into his weekly game of Dungeons and Dragons will be a great way to acclimate Draco to his friends.He would be wrong. Oh, so wrong.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	roll for secrets

**Author's Note:**

> In this house we hate JK Rowling and love trans headcanons.
> 
> My city now.

Draco was late. 

That was all Harry could think as he stood on the front stoop of Ron and Hermione’s little house. He bounced his wand against his knee with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other.

Draco was late. Draco was late, and this was all a mistake, and Harry was going to look like such an arse in front of his friends, and--

When Harry approached his friends about his new boyfriend coming to their Dungeons and Dragons session, there was some trepidation, on several factors: 

  1. Harry had a boyfriend. 
  2. Harry was gay. (Bisexual, he quickly corrected.)
  3. Harry had a boyfriend that he refused to name, that could be a Muggle or a criminal or something equally bewildering.
  4. Harry wanted to bring his new, mysterious, Muggle boyfriend to their secret shame, their DnD game hosted every Sunday night.
  5. Harry wanted to do this while still, for some reason, refusing to name his boyfriend.



The others were less than thrilled. 

So Harry sat on the stoop, waiting for Draco to arrive. Because, if one hadn’t guessed by now, Draco was the secret boyfriend. Draco, his childhood enemy. His childhood enemy who didn’t even know…

Anyway.

It was going to take a lot of convincing to get the others to play along. Literally and figuratively. 

When the Knight Bus rolled around, Harry was both thankful and incredibly nervous. Truth be told, he was half-hoping that Draco wouldn’t show up. 

Draco Malfoy exited the Knight Bus with none of his typical swagger. He was wearing Muggle clothes: a black sweater and black jeans and shiny black shoes. He looked ... nervous. And a little disgusted -- he dusted off his spotless sweater with one hand. 

“Potter,” Draco said by way of greeting. 

“Draco,” Harry said. They had been dating for six months, and he still couldn’t get Draco to call him by his first name. 

Draco’s eyes flitted around the house, taking it in, before settling on the curtains. “Charming little house.”

“Yeah, they bought it about--” 

“The curtains are closed.” 

“Yeah.” 

Draco grabbed Harry by the T-shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Harry, surprised but not displeased, kissed him back. When they finally separated, Harry arched an eyebrow at him. 

“You alright?” he asked. 

“Just in case Weasley and Granger in there kill me on the spot,” Draco said drearily. He brushed some black hair out of Harry’s eyes. “I wanted that to be the last thing I do.”

“Stop being so overdramatic,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. He led Draco to the door, hand in hand. Before he opened the door, he added, quickly, “And, uhh, I should tell you. It’s not just Ron and Hermione in there.” 

“Wait,” Draco said, beginning to panic, “exactly how many--” 

Harry opened the door to find Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville sitting around a dining table, just off the foyer. They all turned, some standing, at the sight of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, hands clasped together. 

For a second, the gang was silent. Then, they all spoke at once: 

“Harry…”

“Bloody hell, mate.”

“Is this you having a laugh?”

“I knew it.” 

“You owe me a galleon.” 

“You owe me four galleons.”

Harry put his hands up in compliance. Draco looked the most uncomfortable Harry had ever seen him. 

“This is your mysterious boyfriend?” Hermione said incredulously. “Him?”

“Nice to see you too, Granger,” Draco groused. He shrugged. “Hello, all.”

“Are you serious?” Neville asked. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’m serious.”

There was a pregnant pause around the room.

“Well,” Ron said, sighing and running a hand through his red hair. He looked around at everyone. “Are we playing or not?”

So maybe it would take less convincing than Harry thought.

“What’s the game?” Draco asked.

* * *

“So let me get this straight,” Draco said slowly. “We, a group of wizards, are going to pretend to be wizards in a fantasy game that takes place in the MIddle Ages. For fun.” 

“As we explained four times, yes,” Hermione said wearily. 

“This game makes no sense.”

“We haven’t even started playing yet,” Ron said. “Now will you please finish making your character.” 

“Right,” Draco said. “So, my character…”

“Canopus Black,” Ginny said, her voice dripping with venom. “Very inventive. Truly.” 

“It’s terrifically inventive, really, if you think about it for more than two moments, younger Weasley,” Draco said flippantly. “So my character, Canopus, is a human sorcerer, who comes from a very powerful magical family. Points in charisma and strength--” 

“That makes no sense,” Neville pointed out, again. 

“I want him to be very strong and powerful,” Draco said, almost through gritted teeth. “And that’s it. That’s my character.” 

“I like him,” Luna said happily. “Canopus seems very nice.”

“Thank you,” Draco said, holding his hands out as if he had proven something. 

“Can we start now,” Ron said through his hands. 

Harry, who was happily chomping on sour cream and onion crisps, looked from Draco to his friends and then to Draco again. “You alright?” he asked Draco quietly.

“I am going to kill all your friends individually,” he said, now truly through gritted teeth. 

Harry reached for another crisp. “Please don’t.” He handed the bowl to Draco, who wrinkled his nose but otherwise took one. 

“Alright,” Ron said, with renewed vigor. “We good? We ready?”

The group nodded. Draco scowled. 

“OK.” Ron cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles in preparation. There was a Dungeon Master screen in front of him, a custom wooden one that Harry had etched Ron’s name into for last Christmas. “So after the fight with the cloaker, you’re all exhausted and spent. You travel down the long and weary road, looking for someplace to rest. You come across an injured traveler on the road, a person with--” He checked Draco’s character sheet and sighed. “With platinum blond hair and a thin frame.” 

“Hold on, why am I injured? And what’s a cloaker?” Draco asked. 

Hermione made a subtle motion under the table. Harry almost missed it. But Draco worked his mouth uselessly -- it was glued shut. He gave Hermione two fingers in response, before undoing the spell on his own. 

“So like I was saying,” Ron said, pretending the aforementioned didn’t happen. “You run across a stranger, injured. He looks up at you, and speaks.” 

There was silence. Everyone turned to Draco. He blinked. “Oh, I talk now?” 

“Yes,” Ron said, as if talking to a very small child. 

“Ah.” He cleared his throat, then said, too loudly and too stiffly, “I am injured and I need help. Help me, or I’ll make you pay.”

“Hold up--” Ron said, as the others clamored in anger. 

“You can’t just threaten us,” Ginny said. 

“How else am I supposed to get them to do what I want?” Draco said impatiently.

 _You’re dating this?_ Neville mouthed to Harry. Harry made a “I don’t know” sound. 

“Malfoy,” Ron said, so patiently Harry was rather impressed. “You can’t just go murder hobo-ing everyone you meet.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Draco said. 

“It means you can’t go threatening random people,” Ginny said. 

“That’s rather rich, coming from you, younger Weasley.” 

“For Merlin’s sake, I have a name,” Ginny cried. 

“I don’t know it.” 

“We’ve spoken dozens of times, how do you not know my name--”

“Draco, can you just…” Harry massaged his closed eyes beneath his glasses. “Please. Cooperate.” 

“I am cooperating,” Draco snapped. 

“Don’t snap at me.”

This was starting to threaten the fine lines of Harry and Draco’s already thinly-held-together relationship. 

He was beginning to regret dragging Draco along.

“Are there any more crisps?” Luna asked Hermione. 

“Yeah, in the cupboard.”

“ _Accio_ crisps!”

“Alright!” Ron said. “Malfoy, please just talk to the party like a person. Like how you would talk to a stranger on the street.” 

Draco wrinkled his nose. “Fine.” He cleared his throat, and said, only slightly more naturally, “I am injured. Help me. Please.” 

Hermione spoke as she was tying her bushy hair back in a bun, held in place with her wand, “I say we leave him for the mimics.”

“There are no mimics on this road,” Ron said. 

“I say we leave him for the blast-ended skrewts,” Ginny said, maliciously. 

“There are no blast-ended skrewts in DnD,” Ron said. 

“How did you become injured?” Luna asked, actually progressing the game. 

Draco looked alarmed at the reality of having to answer a question. “I, uhh. Badgers.”

“Badgers?” Several people asked at once. 

“Big badgers. Large as a man, they were.”

“Is he putting on an accent?” Neville asked.

“He does that when he gets nervous,” Harry said, doodling on his character sheet. 

Now fully panicked, Draco waved his arms around. “This big! And they breathed fire!”

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged. “I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Luna said. “I move to heal his wounds.” She cocked her head. “What are his wounds?”

“Burns,” Draco said severely. “All over my body.” 

“Roll three d8s,” Ron said. 

“I roll to heal his burns,” Luna said, and rolled several lavender-and-blue colored dice. 

Ron checked something in his book. “You healed the burns, but some scarring remains.” Luna sat back, satisfied with herself.

Draco was less pleased. He spluttered with agitation. “Scarring? I’ve never had a scar in my life!” A lie, Harry knew. “I don’t want a scar.”

Several of Harry’s friends looked at him pointedly. He put his head on the table. 

“Well, you have one now,” Ron said, seemingly desperate to continue the game. 

“What’s your name, stranger?” Neville asked. 

“Canopus,” Draco said. “Canopus Black. It’s a very old name, I’ll have you know, and it’s in my family, and it’s a very respectable name--”

“Nice to meet you, Canopus,” Harry said, just then realizing the game might go smoother if he did most of the talking to Draco. He raised his head off his papers. “The road is long and full of dangers. You’re safer with us.” 

“Do I say yes,” Draco said, bewildered. 

“Yes!” Several people cried at once.

“Yes, fine, let’s get on with it,” Draco said. 

“Merlin help me,” Ron muttered, quiet enough Harry could only just catch it. “Alright. Canopus travels with you lot now. You travel along the Tawny Road until you reach a town, called Caster. You reach the inn.” 

“Oh good,” Ginny said. “I need a bloody drink.”

“I think we all do,” Hermione snarked. 

“You settle at a table,” Ron said, “and count your spoils from the latest dungeon.” 

In their last session, the crew had managed to gather rubies and gold, wealth that they hadn’t yet managed to get their hands on in this questline. But most curious of all was a circlet, inset with aquamarine. 

“I think I have one of those at home,” Draco said, picking at his nails. 

“Oh, do you, Canopus,” Hermione said without looking at him.

“No, I actually do, back at Malfoy Man--”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think, Jadia?” she asked Harry. “I think it looks cursed to me. And you’re the expert.”

“Wait.” Draco snorted. “Jadia?” Is Potter playing a girl?”

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said, trying to keep ice from creeping into his voice. 

Here we go. 

“What of it?” Harry said. 

“Little funny, don’t you think? A grown man playing a girl?”

“My character is Jadia Hawthorne,” Harry said, “she’s a human fighter and a curses expert. Her father was a cursebreaker.” 

Draco waved all that away. “But a girl.”

“We’ve been playing this game for a few years now,” Luna said airily. “Suppose some things stick, even through transition.” 

Harry loved Luna to bits. 

If he could have brought his wand out and shut her mouth then, he would have.

“Wait,” Draco said. “What does that mean? Transition?”

The temperature in the room dropped 30 degrees. Harry crossed his arms on the desk and put his head on top. 

“Potter,” Draco said. “Why is everyone staring at me.” 

“He doesn’t know?” Ron hissed at Harry’s side. 

Draco caught that. “Doesn’t know what?”

When Harry looked up again, Luna’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and she had her hands over her mouth in shock. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I thought he knew…”

“Knew what?” Draco cried. “What is going on?”

“Knew I’m transgender,” Harry said through gritted teeth. 

“You’re…” Draco blinked, hard, at Harry. “What?”

“Can we talk in private?” Harry got to his feet in one, loud motion and grabbed Draco’s arm to drag him into the spare room. 

He could hear bursts of talking as soon as he closed the door behind them. 

Draco looked bewildered. “Transgender? What, you’re some kind of…”

“The word is transgender,” Harry snapped. “Whatever word you were about to say, don’t. I’m trans.”

They had never had a fight before.

Well, not since school, anyway. 

Not since they began dating. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this way!” Harry cried, running his hands through his shaggy hair. “I wanted...I had a plan. I had a process.”

“So,” Draco said, very slowly. “You were born a girl.” 

“Not rea…” Harry sighed. “Fine, sure. If that makes it make sense to you. I was born a girl and I’m a bloke now.” 

“No,” Draco said. There was a surprising fierceness in his eyes. “Don’t talk down to me. I’m not stupid. Tell me how this works, for real. You’re transgender, fine. I don’t know … I mean, my father told stories about lads at work, but … I don’t know how that works.” 

Harry so didn’t want to have this conversation in Ron and Hermione’s guest room. He sat on the bed, rubbing his face. 

“I thought I was a girl, growing up.” Harry said wearily. “‘Harry’ isn’t the name I was born with. When I got to Hogwarts, I had a long conversation with McGonagall. She could tell I wasn’t happy with how

I looked, how I presented myself. I asked her if I could go by Harry, if I could wear the boys’ robes. I also asked her not to tell anyone.” 

Draco nodded. “Your aunt and uncle…”

“Oh, they still think I’m a butch lesbian,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “They never let me out of girls’ clothes growing up. It wasn’t until Hogwarts I got to be who I really was.” 

Draco twisted a ring on his finger, a green and silver one, over and over. 

“Are you going to say anything?” Harry asked. 

“This whole time that I’ve known you, then,” Draco said. “Even that day at Madam Malkin’s…”

Harry blinked. “You remember that?” 

Draco gave Harry a look that surprised him. “Of course I do. I remember what an arse I was. Blood purity this and that.” 

Harry winced a little. “Yeah. You came on … a little strong.” 

Draco sighed. 

“I never was a girl,” Harry said. “Not really. Not where it counts.” 

Draco nodded. “Your whole life, then, has been people telling you what you are.” He snorted. “I know what that feels like.”

So not the same thing. But ... he was trying. Draco sat beside Harry, and Harry put his head on his shoulder. They sat there for a moment, hearing the sounds of crows cry outside the window in the early night. 

“Do you still want to date me, now?” Harry asked wearily. He felt as if he had just run a marathon. Coming out to Hermione and Ron was a wholly different ordeal.

“‘Course I do,” Draco said. “Why. Do you not want to date me?”

Harry laced his fingers in Draco’s. “‘Course I do. For some stupid reason.”

There was an expectant pause, and Harry knew why.

“You can ask your other question, by the way.” Harry had to go over this with Ginny. It was like a bandaid then, quick but relatively harmless. 

“Is this why you never wanted to sleep with me?” There was a surprising amount of vulnerability in Draco’s voice. “I always thought … there was something wrong.” 

“I was waiting for the right moment,” Harry said truthfully.

“Guess the Lovegood girl blurting it out is as good a moment as we get,” Draco said, chuckling. “Things never seem to go your way, Harry.” 

Harry started. “What’d you say?”

Suddenly embarrassed, he said, “Feels weird now to skirt around your first name. Feels rude.” 

Harry was overcome with an emotion he couldn’t name. He took Draco’s face with both hands and kissed him, hard. Draco melted back into the kiss, and for a long moment they sat there, utterly consumed with each other. 

Finally, there was a knock on the door. “You two alright?” Hermione’s voice came in through the crack. 

They separated. Harry coughed. “We’re fine,” he said. “We’re coming out.”

“Well, Harry is, anyway,” Draco snarked. 

Harry wasn’t sure whether he wanted to smack him or kiss him again. 

They came out of the room hand-in-hand, and Harry’s friends all looked at him expectantly. 

“So…” Ginny said. “We good?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking at Draco. “We’re good.”

They sat down next to each other.

Ron cleared his throat, and looked at Harry as if for the all clear. Harry nodded. 

“So where were we?” 


End file.
